Lost and Found
by The Bog Witch
Summary: Ryuichi loses an old friend and meets a new one. Crossover with the Sandman comics, but still accessible to those unfamiliar with them.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Okay, first, I want to say that I can't believe I'm doing this. And, second, I want to say that it's not as crazy as it sounds.

**For those familiar with Sandman:** I have no idea whether it would be more bizarre for Barnabas to understand Japanese or for him _not_ to understand Japanese. So, for the purposes of this story, I'm going to say that he speaks English only and leave it at that. If anyone knows anything that refutes this, please don't hesitate to tell me.

**For those unfamiliar with Sandman:** I have endeavored to make this story as accessible as possible for those unfamiliar with the series. A brief background on the Sandman comics: Written by Neil Gaiman, the series revolves around seven anthropomorphic personifications of the forces that govern human lives. (Specifically: Dream, Delirium, Despair, Desire, Destiny, Death and Destruction). They are known collectively as the Endless. The series focuses mainly on Dream and draws off of myths, comics, history, literature and urban legend. The characters' names are self explanatory. I highly recommend the series to fantasy fans; it's one of the coolest stories I've ever read, comic or otherwise. Try Wikipedia for more information.

In this fic, I'll mostly be making use of Delirium and her dog Barnabas. Barnabas talks and Delirium acts a bit like Ryuichi (the reason behind this story's existence.) That's all you need to know. Promise.

**Thanks to:** Sai-chan, my wonderful beta, who smoothed out the rough bits and generally helped me make the story much, much cooler. Thank you, Sai-chan!

Disclaimer: Gravitation belongs to Maki Murakami and the Sandman comics are property of Neil Gaiman. No money will be made from this endeavor; it is purely a labor of love (and insanity). Okay, mostly insanity. But, affectionately so.

**Lost and Found**

****

**_1. Nose First Into a Leg _**

Well, great. The dog wandered down dingy streets. The low hum of traffic droned in the background; after a few minutes, he scarcely noticed it. She was gone again! He'd been keeping an eye on her, alright?

Buses whizzed by, sending swift breezes that ruffled his fur. It wasn't his fault. He'd just woken up, and she had wandered off. A dog needed a nap once in a while. And, now, he wasn't even sure where _he_ was.

He had to find her.

Let's see, florist, baker, little clothes outlet store. Nope. She wouldn't be in there. Barnabas's tail drooped. Butcher shop? Hmm… possibilities. Sniffing, he decided to do a thorough search of it. A _very_ thorough search. Couldn't have poor Del lost in a butcher shop, now could he? Heh. Of course not. He was not the type to be derelict in his duties.

Inhaling the pleasant aroma of meat and fish, Barnabas poked his nose into the shop.

No sooner had he done this than a fat man with a broom ran to the door, yelling something that Barnabas couldn't understand. Sigh. Language barrier or no, he knew where _this_ was going, that's for sure. _She's probably not in there anyway_, he reasoned, eyeing the swinging broom with distaste.

Scampering down alleyways and across crowded streets, Barnabas looked for some sort of sign. Where was he? It seemed like he was somewhere in the waking world, but things got muddled up when you traveled with Delirium. Stands to reason, he supposed. It sounded like that insufferable man with the broom was speaking—ow!

Lost in thought, Barnabas had run nose first into a leg. It was an okay sort of leg, not too dumpy, not too lean. Okay. He would know; dogs are experts on legs. Still, getting your nose crushed against someone else's knee was never a pleasant experience. Whimpering, Barnabas backed up.

Attached to the leg was a man. This was not unusual, in the scheme of things. He wore a blue hat. Barnabas acknowledged this and turned to continue his search.

Oh. Wait. The guy was babbling something at him. Barnabas couldn't understand a word he said, but at least this one didn't feel the need to enunciate with the business end of a broom. _Best to just pant and wag your tail. _

He waited a few minutes. When the guy showed no signs of stopping, Barnabas decided to make his exit.

"Well, " Barnabas muttered, "It's been really fun and all, but I have to go." He turned tail and began to walk away.

"The doggy speaks English?" The man said, obviously confused. Barnabas couldn't blame him; it wasn't every day that you heard a dog talk.

"Um … yeah. You understood me?" It wasn't every day, as a matter of fact, that people understood Barnabas. They tended not to see what they didn't expect to see, and not to hear what they didn't expect to hear.

The man nodded emphatically, dark hair bouncing. "Kumagoro and I—" he patted the front pocket of his windbreaker, "Oh no!" He reached into the pocket, rummaging frantically. "I've lost Kumagoro!" Tears started to well up in his eyes.

"Hey, now!" said Barnabas, "Don't cry! I'm sure you'll find your ... um, your Kumawhatsit?"

"Kumagoro."

"Oh. Right."

"B-but," he sniffled, "he was right here in my pocket!" More tears.

Barnabas really didn't have time for this; he had to go find Delirium. Still, he couldn't just leave the poor guy there. What he lost must be something very important, to make a grown man cry like that. Barnabas sighed.

"Look, maybe I'll help you look for a little while."

"Oh, thank you, doggy!" He bent down and hugged him.

"Easy!" Barnabas gasped, choking for air, "Only for a little while, remember. I have someone to find, too."

"Really?" he said, wiping his eyes, "Who are you looking for?"

"Never mind that," said Barnabas; it would be too difficult to explain. "Now, what's a Kumagoro?"

"Kumagoro is a bunny."

_A bunny? Who carries around a bunny? Aren't you supposed to keep them in a hutch or a cage or something?_ This guy was pretty strange, and, considering the sort of people Barnabas usually hung out with, that was saying something.

"What does he look like?"

"Well, he's about this big," the man set his arms a small distance apart, "and he has floppy ears." He motioned to his head, miming rabbit ears with his hands.

"Aha," said Barnabas, "in other words, he looks just like a rabbit."

"Yes! That's it exactly!"

Needless to say, it wasn't much to go on. Barnabas sniffed the man's front pocket. It didn't smell like a rabbit. It just smelled like cloth.

"What color is his fur?"

"Pink!"

"Pink?" _They're dying their rabbits now? The human race just gets stranger and stranger._

"Uh…" Realization dawned. "Are we talking about a real rabbit?"

"Kumagoro is real!"

"Of course, but," Barnabas tried to think of a tactful way to phrase it, "Is he, you know… _stuffed_? Like, cotton between the ears, button eyes and all the rest?"

"Kumagoro," the man said, stubbornly, crossing his arms, "is so a real rabbit."

"Alright so he's a real … pink rabbit."

"Don't make fun of me!"

"I didn't mean to."

"I don't like it when people…or doggies, make fun of me." Well, that took him back. It reminded him a little of Delirium.

"Okay, okay. Sorry." And, that was when Barnabas knew that he was going to help this nut find his rabbit. _Heh, I really am too goodhearted._ Hopefully it wouldn't take long. The guy had probably dropped it a block or so back.

"But," said the man, in a small voice, "his eyes might be a little button-y. Just a little. Don't tell him I said that, though, okay?"

"Sure. My lips are sealed." Barnabas started walking, sniffing for the scent of cloth. The man followed.

"So… " he said, conversationally, "do you have a name?"

"I'm Sakuma Ryuichi."

"I'm Barnabas." Suddenly, his ears perked up, "Hey, is that a Japanese name or something?"

"Well, duh. We're in Japan." Barnabas stopped short. Japan? No wonder he couldn't understand what anyone was saying. He never had been any good at languages. Finding Del would be harder than he'd originally thought. Better get this over with.

"Oh. Let's retrace your steps, then. When did you last see Kumageorgo?"

"Kumagoro."

"Right. When did you last see him?"

"Um … I had him when I went to see my friends at N-G."

"Good. Let's go there, and we'll probably find him on the way."

_**2. Sticky on the Inside**_

Delirium wandered past tall, tall buildings. They were all grey and blocky and they didn't look very friendly. And, her poor doggy was gone. He worried, if he couldn't find her.

She didn't want her doggy to worry.

So, she went looking for him, but … she got sidetracked a lot. They had bunches of fun stuff here. The candy tasted great. Delirium got a whole box of these little sticky-thingies that were really sweet and good and went 'crunch' when you bit them.

Sometimes, when she remembered, she asked the people that hurried down the streets if they had seen her doggy.

"He's a nice sort of doggy," she'd say, "all black and brown and his ears go like this." And she'd show them how his ears went with her hands and everything, but no one had seen him.

She started to feel a little lonely. Oh! Someone was watching her.

"Hi!" She said. It was good to see a friendly face. "Are you lost too?"

"I see." Delirium put a finger to her chin.

"Do you like my dress? It swirls around and around and around." She demonstrated this, tattered lace flying. "I once had a jelly donut. It was sticky on the inside, and then I thought that maybe if you eat something sticky on the inside, you'll be all sticky on the inside too, and your organs would get all stuck together and it was supposed to be red. The dress, I mean." She pointed downwards.

"I like red. Neon." And suddenly, the dress was red. Her companion showed no sign of surprise at this, instead, slumped silently against the graying wall.

"If you want to and you're not busy and you don't have someplace else to go," she continued, holding her arms out like an airplane, "you can come with me and we can look for our friends together."

Black eyes stared.

"You do? Oh, we'll have so much fun! You'll like my doggy; he is very nice, even if he does get a little grumbly sometimes." Delirium picked up the fuzzy pink bunny and put him in her pocket, which hadn't been there a second ago.

Suddenly she didn't feel so lonely anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: The Search**

**_1. Half a Blueberry_**

He had accepted the rabbit. He had, really. He had accepted it and had even come to like it, after a while. It was a part of Ryuichi, another one of his loveable quirks. But this…this was getting ridiculous.

"So, you're saying that this dog is talking to you?" said Tohma, for the fifth time. He looked down at his desk and sighed.

"In English," supplied Ryuichi.

"I see." Tohma's hand dropped to the pile of papers before him. Shaking his head, he asked one more time. "In English?"

"Yes." Ryuichi's head bobbed. Tohma glanced at the dog in question. It was currently sniffing through the contents of his wastebasket.

"That dog?" He jerked his thumb towards the brown and black mongrel.

"That's him. His name is Barnabas." Ryuichi grinned.

"And he talks to you?"

Ryuichi nodded.

"In English?" The dog overturned the discreet blue wastebasket, at this point. It helped itself to a leftover half a blueberry muffin.

"Yes."

"I see," said Tohma, and he suddenly felt that he needed to sit down.

**_2. Squishy and Covered in Purpley-Browny-Purple_**

"Um… hi?" The blob shook, heaved itself over to the edge of the purple and brown muck. It made a good gooey, squelching sound, like mud under galoshes when it's raining outside and you don't feel like going inside anywhere because it's all boring inside and sometimes the rain is so much better than the sun, most especially when you're not feeling very sunny.

It smelled funny here, like rotten eggs or a bologna sandwich that had been left underneath the refrigerator for seven and a half months. She'd been to places that were worse, however.

Traveling was nice. (It was easier for her than it was for most people). She liked the sights (though not always the smells) and moving around a lot helped keep that buzzy-dizzy-sad feeling away.

She turned to her pink companion. "Don't fall in! You would get all squishy and covered in purplely-browny-purple stuff!"

Said companion assured her that he would do no such thing, and reminded her of their mission.

"Oh, yes, thank you. I forget sometimes…" she turned to the blob, "Have you seen my doggy? He's veryniceandhisearsgolikethis," she said, all in one breath, motioning to her head one-handed. The other hand was occupied.

"What's that?" Her companion had something to add to the query, apparently. Listening carefully, she drew the rabbit to her ear. "Oh… and a really sparkly guy about this big?" She stood on her tiptoes, raising her hand high above her head. It was good that the bunny was around to remind her; she was so so bad at remembering.

The blob shifted and a huge bubble exploded from the muck.

"Eeep! Um. Okay. I think we'll just go now. Thank you for not doing the thing where you squirt us with the poison and um, _digest_ us from the outside in and everything. Yeah. Um."

She waved to the blob as they headed to their next destination.

The bubbles in the muck popped and the ground shook.

**_3. Twenty Times Worse_**

They were doing it again.

The little pink-haired kid gestured wildly, nearly falling onto the table. The one with the long red hair caught him in the nick of time. The kid with the short hair just looked like he wanted to be anywhere in the world, as long as it wasn't right here. And they all kept _staring_ at him. That was the disconcerting part.

Barnabas couldn't abide _staring_. He was a dog, not some two-bit jackal or moldering hyena at the zoo.

He couldn't understand a word that any of them were saying, of course; that made it ten times worse. No, on second thought, make that twenty times worse. Thirty, even. Barnabas laid his head on his paws and whined.

**_4. An English Dog_**

"But Ryuichi," said Shuichi, deciding to ignore the larger issue, for the moment, "why would a dog in Japan be speaking English?"

Ryuichi scratched his head, fidgeting in his front pocket for Kumagoro's ears, then clenching his hands around the corner of his shirt when he found that the bunny was no longer there. "I think he must be an English dog."

"Can he speak to us now?"

"Um… I don't know. He says that most people don't hear him. Maybe if you tried speaking English and listened very very hard?"

"Shuichi, I don't think—" Hiro began.

"Speak English?" Shuichi made a face. "Well, I'll try."

"But Shuichi, you know that you're not very good at—" Hiro tried. Shuichi waved him off.

"Nonsense!" The singer got down on all fours in front of the dog. "Okay, here goes!"

_**5. Tuna**_

Barnabas wasn't exactly sure what the pink haired kid wanted with a tuna sandwich.

**_6. Snakes of Green and Florescent_**

Wind swept the hair from the back of her neck, sending it flowing over her shoulder in snakes of green and florescent orange and dark purple. The ground was not quite solid enough to walk on here, but she had fun trying anyway.

"Y-you mean," she said, through chapped lips, "that you don't think we can find them here?"

Frost formed on the end of her nose, filmed over like sugar-glaze on her companion's black-button eyes.

She shivered.

_**7. Tuna Again**_

That kid seemed really adamant about the tuna.

**_8. Really-Actually _**

This place was new and bright and orange. The sky burned fiery red; the parched ground cracked beneath her feet. Hot vapors drifted from bubbling geysers, mingled with spitting olive-green fizz.

Delirium traveled to the planet's near-solid core, which was a molten mixture of titanium, magnesium and aluminum alloy. She slipped in through one of the in-between places, thin slices in time and space that weren't really anywhere in particular at all.

Not anywhere in particular: her favorite sort of place. Her new friend, however, did not believe that doggies or shiny men or anyone that really-actually needed to _breathe_ would enjoy it.

This, of course, severely limited their chances of finding them here.

_**9. Tuna, a Third Time**_

"Look, I don't have any tuna!"

**_10. Absolutely_**

It was dark. And cold. And absolutely silent. She could feel the pressure bearing down on her skull. She sometimes went here to help her think, but only because it wasn't much fun and there was nothing to be distracted by.

Truthfully, she hated it.

Not just the thinking and the pulling-herself-together part, but the place as well. There weren't even any fishies here; she once tried to make some, but they fell apart almost as soon as they appeared in the still water.

She _really_ hated it. Really-actually.

And then, her new friend reminded her, there was that _breathing _thing again.

Oh well. If at first you don't succeed… do… something that she couldn't remember. Lie again? Fry again? Die again? No, she would remember if it had something to do with her sister.

Either way, she wasn't giving up. Really-actually-absolutely-no-way.


End file.
